Mao and Me

     Growing up, the extent of my knowledge of Chinese history came from my grandmother. My six-year-old self would often sit on her lap as she told me the horrific deeds of the xiao ri ben (which translates directly to "small Japanese" but is used colloquially as an insult to the Japanese people as a whole). She described in gory detail how the xiao ri ben invaded China like unwelcome pests, burning down villages and raping women before killing them. Well, she censored out the latter part, but still her intent was clear -- the Japanese were trouble. Looking back, her hatred for the country and its people makes sense; she grew up in the 1940's and still recalled the lasting effects of the Nanjing Massacre. Little did I know that my grandmother was telling me tales of the Second Sino-Japanese War, in which Mao Zedong played a major role.

The Nanjing Massacre resulted in the deaths of over 200,000 Chinese

     Mao was always a vague, distant idea for me growing up. Yes, I knew he had something to do with the rise of communism in China during the Second World War, but he was largely just that creepy portrait in Tienanmen Square I saw when I visited Beijing in 2009. Though I didn't fully grasp the Chairman's significance, I could have sworn his eyes followed me around the plaza.

Mao is always watching. The text translates roughly to "Long live the People's Republic of China".

     Born and raised in the US, I've always associated "communist" with "evil", so I was surprised to find after doing some research that Mao was actually a significant leader in the Second World War. He allied with Chiang Kai-shek of the Kuomintang (who I originally viewed with more sympathy because he was not a communist) to drive out the Japanese with the help of guerrilla tactics and the United States' aid.
     So an ally of the US must be good, right? Not quite. Following Japan's surrender to the Allies on September 2, 1945, Mao's Chinese Communist Party and Kai-shek's Kuomintang clashed, beginning the second portion of China's civil war (the first, 1927-1937, was interrupted by WWII). After an additional four years of war, Mao came out on top and created the People's Republic of China, forming the communist state we know today.
     Overall, Mao's impact on China and the world is morally questionable. Yes, he improved the status of women and education standards in China; he increased life expectancy and modernized the nation. Yet, his 1960's Great Leap Forward and Cultural Revolution policies were massive failures. The former led to more than 45 million deaths. The latter was responsible for the Down to the Countryside Movement, in which Mao displaced 17 million "fortunate" youth to the rural countryside to experience a more "rustic" life. The work in the countryside was notorious for its unforgiving nature; my eldest aunt, who farmed from dawn until dusk, often went sleep hungry.

Chinese propaganda for the Great Leap Forward.

     So, Mao contributed to the end of Japanese occupation of China, thus rendering my grandmother free from the xiao ri ben's grasp, but his actions nearly caused the starvation of my aunt.
    In the end, much like everyone else on this earth, Mao was neither wholly good or evil, black or white. I leave it up to you to decide. After all, Mao and me, we've got a complicated relationship. -MC

Use the Force, Alice

It's good to be back.
     Recently in 12AP, we read Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha, which traces a young man's journey to enlightenment. Along the way, he encounters plenty of obstacles -- some intrinsic, others a result of circumstance -- not unlike the main hero of 1977's Star Wars, Luke Skywalker. In fact, upon closer scrutiny, it's surprising just how many parallels the two works have.

     Most notably: life. In the former work, the river is the symbol of life. It is the "yearning voice" of life itself, fraught with "pleasure and sorrow... laughing and lamenting".  The latter half of the novel is largely Siddhartha learning to embrace the river's wisdom, which culminates when he hears the river's laughter and restrains himself from foolishly pursuing his son. He listens, so the river guides.

The river guides Siddhartha towards enlightenment and therefore peace.

     In Star Wars, the life force is literally called the Force, which is unconstrained by time and binds together all living objects. Much like Siddhartha, Luke's journey throughout the film serves to attune his senses to the Force and allowing it to flow through him and guide his actions. At the end of the film, his character growth is demonstrated when, at the urging of his mentor Obi-Wan, he abandons his ship's target system and instead utilizes the Force to aim and eventually destroy the Empire's Death Star.

Luke hears the voice of his mentor, Obi-Wan Kenobi

     The two works differ, however, in their use of female characters. (I'd also like to point out that neither passes the Bechdel test. That is, neither have multiple female characters, let alone female characters who talk to each other.) Siddhartha's female character, Kamala is used as a femme fatale; she is beautiful, with lips like a "freshly-cut fig", and her attractiveness prompts Siddhartha to change. He obtains a job to earn money, clothes, and presents, all of which Kamala desires in a mate.

Mata Hari, the quintessential femme fatale.

     On the contrary, Princess Leia is a stark contrast from the traditional princess archetype. Though she does get saved by a knight in shining armor (or in this case, Stormtrooper gear), it is her wit that shines through. She jabs her rescuers -- "Can someone get this walking carpet out of my way?" -- and she certainly doesn't care how others may view her. Frankly, she doesn't need to because she is also the leader of the Rebel Alliance. Now, that is not to say she is above civility, but rather that she has gained the respect of her peers to throw off the frivolous, conventional giggles and sighs of female characters.

     Yes, it's typical of me to turn this into a post on feminism, but it's important to note the cultural impact of both works. Hesse brought traditional Hindu and Buddhist values to the west whereas Star Wars began an era of unconventional female characters. Regardless, I greatly enjoyed both. -MC